


Calm After the Storm

by SweatersAndScarves (SlaveToMyKeyboard)



Series: Alternia Sans Sgrub [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sgrub Session, Angst, But nothing is specifically stated, But with a happy ending, Canon-typical swearing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eridan cries a lot, Fluff, Kinda Sadstuck, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, References to Canon Universe, References to dark thoughts about life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:06:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5668723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlaveToMyKeyboard/pseuds/SweatersAndScarves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You cling to Goatdad’s fur and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to pretend that you didn’t leave dry land behind quite some time ago. Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are currently travelling to an island a few miles offshore to visit your sea-dweller friend that nobody has heard from in over a week."</p><p>In a world where Sgrub never happened, seven-sweep-old Karkat is left to pick up the pieces of Feferi and Eridan's disaster of a break-up. Some cute, sad, angsty fluff, because I have a horrible addiction to making Eridan cry and Karkat is always the one to deal with it. Rated T for canon-typical swearing.</p><p>My first submission and a prelude to a <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5672290/chapters/13067188">much bigger fic</a> that I'm working on. Enjoy ~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calm After the Storm

==> Be the seven-sweep-old riding their Moirail’s Lusus across the ocean

You cling to Goatdad’s fur and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to pretend that you didn’t leave dry land behind quite some time ago. Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are currently travelling to an island a few miles offshore to visit your sea-dweller friend that nobody has heard from in over a week.

As far as you’ve been able to gather, he tried to broach the subject of a red relationship to his Moirail Feferi and she handled it rather badly. So badly in fact, that they ended up in an argument where she not only rejected his suggestion, but broke off their Moirailegence completely. She gave up trying to talk to him, convinced that Eridan was just being ‘dramatic as usual’ and telling the rest of you there was nothing to worry about.

Then when she did actually apologise, he started expressing disturbingly negative outlooks on his life and she finally realised that there was _everything_ to worry about. But he was beyond the point of being placated, no matter who tried, and eventually he stopped signing onto trollian altogether. You still remember the last message he left you, and it pulls at your blood-pusher every time you think about it. You suggested that Feferi go and visit him, but she made the excuse that it might make things worse for him – you’re not sure if she was actually thinking about his feelings, or just running away from her problems – so you decided to do it yourself.

“Uh, Karbro.” Gamzee says, tapping your back.

You dare to open your eyes and push yourself up enough to see what’s in front of you. The dark blue shipwreck barely stands out against the night sky, with all of its curtains drawn and not a single light visible anywhere inside. Then as Goatdad begins to slow down, the beach and its dock come into full view, or at least what’s left of them.

“Holy shit.” You mutter, leaning back against Gamzee’s chest as you survey the chaos laid out in front of you.

There’s debris strewn all across the sand, pieces of cloth and wood that have been shredded and splintered as if they were thrown against the rocks. The dock is all but non-existent, probably the source of the wood unless a giant sea monster took a chunk out of it at some point. It looks like the island had its own little hurricane.

Goatdad tries several times to pull himself on land, but after every attempt is thwarted by a stray portion of wreckage just under the waves, he resorts to stretching his tail out for you to climb across. The uneasiness in your stomach settles itself even deeper as you pick your way to the entrance, thankful that the moonlight is strong enough to let you see where you’re going.

You steel yourself and knock on the door. Then when there is no answer, you knock again.

“Eridan?”

Still nothing. You pound on the door this time, realising when it swings inwards that it was already open. The room beyond is pitch black, and you hold onto Gamzee’s arm as the two of you step inside the hive, closing the door behind you.

“Eridan?” You call out again, continuing forwards when you are met with silence once more.

Then you see a faint light seeping out from under a door, and cautiously make your way over. Pressing your ear to the wood yields nothing but the sound of the waves and creaking wood, so you push the door open enough to poke your head inside. The light source is next to the doorway, but in the far corner you can see a small figure draped in purple, his jagged horns casting shadows on the wall behind. You breathe a sigh of relief and step inside, putting a hand behind you to tell Gamzee to wait. Eridan is sitting with his forehead on his knees, arms crossed over his chest as if he’s hugging himself. Pity clutches at your pusher, and you bite your lip to stop the noises that want to spill out.

“Eridan?” You say softly, edging a few steps forwards.

He looks up almost immediately, seeming dazed for a second before he recognises you through the glasses sitting crookedly on his face. He makes this sad, choked sound that you think was supposed to be your name, staring wide-eyed as you walk over to him. His face is practically white, all except for the dark rings around his eyes. Even his fins are completely grey, resting limply against his jawline when they should be perked up and tinted lilac. You’ve never seen him looking so small, so miserable, a dejected shell of the proud, melodramatic violet-blood you know him to be. Or perhaps knew. You kneel down because you can’t stand feeling this tall next to him, but he just watches, motionless, like one of you isn’t really there and he doesn’t dare move in case it breaks this reality.

“Hey.” Your own voice is wavering as you reach out to him, placing one hand lightly on his cheek.

God he feels so cold. You know this is normal for sea-dwellers, but you’ve also been around Eridan enough to recognise what’s normal for him, and there is definitely something wrong with the soft, icy skin under your fingers. You press your palm against his jaw and begin running your thumb across his cheekbone, willing colour to appear with each stroke.

The contact seems to spark life back into him, a little gasp at first, then the closest fin twitches. You straighten his glasses for him with your other hand, using it to cup his face when you’re done. He blinks at you, letting his arms drop to his sides as emotions flit across his features. Surprise, fear, and what you hope is a hint of relief. All of them present, but none able to root themselves amongst whatever is keeping the corners of his mouth pinned down.

You wish he would cry, or get angry, or even push you away, just give you something to work with because this, this silence, as you look into those huge, sad eyes of his trying desperately to search for an answer, it’s tearing you to pieces. You don’t know what to do. Nobody’s ever shut down on you like this before, especially not _Eridan_. Feferi said he was hard work, but she didn’t know how easy she had it; he would moan and whine about every tiny fucking thing, laying it all out for you to see and know and _fix_.

That’s what you have to do. You have to fix him. You have to fix him because this isn’t right, this is _never_ right, not for any Troll. You clear your throat, making sure you’re your voice isn’t going to crack before you speak. You’ve got to be strong for him.

“Hey, c’mon,” You drop your hands to his shoulders and rub them, gently but enough to jog him a little, “snap out of it man, it’s me, it’s Karkat.”

Finally, you manage to flick the switch. Tears pool in his eyes, then begin trickling down onto his cheeks, creating dark spots on your jumper and his cape as they land.

“Kar.” It’s still barely a word, but you recognise it this time.

“Yeah, it’s me,” You repeat, wiping his tears with your sleeve, “I’m here.”

He takes a deep breath and grits his teeth, raising his hands to your face and then lowering them back down, like he doesn’t know what to do with you. Then he lets out a single sob and grabs you around the torso, hugging you so tightly against his shaking body, as if you’re the only thing keeping him together.

“Shh,” You whisper, nuzzling his neck, “everything’s alright.”

He shakes his head, pulling you fully into his lap and wrapping his legs around you.

“Shooshh,” You’re more forceful this time, reaching up to pap his cheek, “shh it’s okay.”

He sniffs, then exhales a long, shaky sigh, finally beginning to release his death grip on your sweater. It could be anywhere from minutes to hours that you stay there, focussing on the Troll you’re draped across like a protective snuggleplane, letting him hold you for as long as he needs to. Although you do feel guilty about almost forgetting that Gamzee is even there, only remembering when Eridan abruptly ceases all contact with you at the sound of footsteps.

You stroke his face to reassure him, whilst also beckoning Gamzee closer. Your Moirail smiles and strides over, sitting down a foot or so away. Eridan eyes him for a moment, then tentatively reinstates his arms on your back. You extend your free hand out to Gamzee, pulling him towards you a little after he grasps it. Eridan tenses up, but after a few more paps from you and half a minute spent peacefully in Gamzee’s presence, he relaxes. Thank God. You really need Gamzee here right now, and you cannot afford to deal with either of them getting jealous or picking a fight.

“Either of you motherfuckers hungry?” Gamzee asks out of the blue several minutes later.

It takes you a moment to process the question, before you realise that you could most definitely go for some food right now.

“Yeah,” You sit back and brush a strand of hair from Eridan’s face, “let’s get something to eat, huh?”

He nods, keeping his eyes fixed on you as you stand. He tries to follow, but ends up slipping back down against the wall. When was the last time he actually ate? Or moved for that matter? The two of you help him to his feet, and you leave him under Gamzee’s care as you construct a quick pile in the middle of his livingblock. Thankfully, his hive has no shortage of plush materials and big, fancy cushions, so it doesn’t take long before you’ve got a snuggle heap to be proud of.

Then as you and Eridan lay down in the pile, a thought occurs to you. You’ve just been in four different rooms and not once encountered Seahorsedad. In fact, you’re pretty sure that Eridan was alone until you got here, so where the fuck is his Lusus and why isn’t it taking care of him? You could ask Eridan, but what if something bad happened and the mere mention of it sends him over the edge?

Wait, was that a whinny or are you imagining things? You stop moving and listen again, hearing a nicker from somewhere and then a loud snort, followed by a shadow appearing in the doorway at the hive’s entrance. Eridan doesn’t seem to notice, but as soon as Seahorsedad lays eyes on you, he knocks his tail on the floor, nostrils flaring as he approaches. Your body growls without instruction from your pan, and your lip twitches with the urge to bare your teeth. The Skyhorse freezes, breathing heavily and making these low, rumbling noises. You shouldn’t be threatening Eridan’s Lusus like this, especially not in their own hive, but it clearly hasn’t been doing its job.

Or maybe… What if Eridan wouldn’t _let_ his Lusus help him? This notion cuts through your growl and you fall silent, just as an arm appears in the side of your vision. Eridan is reaching past you, weakly holding his hand out to Seahorsedad. The creature dips its head, now making soft, comforting sounds as it floats over and presses its nose into the sea-dweller’s palm. It must have been just as worried as you were, it probably didn’t understand why its charge shut himself away like that. Maybe it had been out looking for help? You break your glare with the Skyhorse and press your forehead against Eridan’s shoulder.

“Well hey there!”

Seahorsedad lets out a surprised whinny and rears bolt upright at the sound of Gamzee’s voice.

“Think you could all up and show me where the motherfucking food is?” He continues unperturbed, casually gesturing to the nutritionblock with his thumb.

After a moment’s pause, Seahorsedad neighs indignantly and pushes past the purple-blood, glancing back before heading into the other room. Gamzee shrugs and follows after it. You almost smile at this little exchange, but it only brings you closer to the opposite emotion. You can feel that tightness in the back of your throat, but you hold in the tears. You can’t cry, you just _can’t_ , not now. At least Eridan has stopped crying and you think that’s a good thing, but after the way he was earlier you’re not sure anymore.

A lot of rummaging and clanging and nickering later, Gamzee emerges with three plates of food; cluckbeast sandwiches for you land-dwellers, and some sort of fish pate on toast for Eridan. You’re not sure who made what, so you make sure to thank both Gamzee and Seahorsedad as the three of you begin to eat. Well, two of you at first, Eridan takes a little coaxing and you’re on the brink of actually feeding him yourself, when he finally takes an interest in what’s on the nutrition platter.

Surprisingly, he eats everything that was offered, looking slightly more awake now that he’s got some food inside of him. He pulls you into another embrace, but it’s more affectionate than desperate, like a normal pale cuddle. Then the pile shifts as Gamzee plops down next to you and starts tangling his fingers in your hair, combing out each knot with his claws. He’s not exactly delicate about it, but you’ve gotten used to his heavy-handed affection.

Eridan falls asleep within half an hour, his temperature back to normal and his expression peaceful for the first time tonight. You were kind of hoping to talk to him a bit first, or at least get him in a recuperacoon, but you’re glad that he felt safe enough to get some rest. Seahorsedad curls up next to him, and you’re sure he glares at you before tucking his head up against Eridan’s back. You take this as a hint to leave – even thought you’d really rather not – and head into the other livingblock with Gamzee. Yes, Eridan’s hive has two livingblocks.

Not wanting to disturb anything, you end up sitting in Gamzee’s lap, sharing a pair of headphones and watching a romcom on your husktop. You don’t really pay attention, and you’re pretty sure Gamzee has no idea what’s going on, but it provides a good distraction from thinking about what might have happened if you hadn’t come here, or what might still happen. But there’s one thought that won’t go away.

_This can’t just be Feferi._

You know Eridan cares about her, and supposedly they were ‘fated’ or whatever, but surely their argument can’t have been the only cause of all this. You turn off the movie and captchalogue your husktop. For once, a romcom really isn’t what you want to be watching right now. Gamzee gives you a confused look, but you shake your head and force a smile. This isn’t the time to discuss your concerns.

Then you hear a chirp from the next room, like the ones you used to use for calling Crabdad. Seahorsedad whinnies in reply, but Eridan calls out again, evidently not satisfied with just his Lusus’ presence. You tell Gamzee to wait there and go to investigate, drawn by the nervous sounds that your friend is making and barely resisting the urge to make some back. Eridan is sitting in the pile with his cape wrapped around him, fins perked up and completely awake.

“Kar!” He says after another chirp.

He looked panicked until he saw you, but now he seems relieved, if still on the verge of tears. You reclaim your place next to him, getting dragged into his lap again as soon as your butt touches the floor.

“What’s the matter?”

“Day terror,” he mutters, quiet but apparently able to speak properly now, “I thought you wwere gone.”

His voice cracks towards the end and he buries his face in your hair to muffle a sob.

“Don’t worry,” you tell him, shifting so that you can loop your arms around his neck, “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

He nods and begins to cry softly into your shoulder, finally letting go of the emotion he’s been holding back. You shush him and run a hand through his hair, repeating the gentle strokes so that they line up with your breathing and eventually your purring. You feel a little guilty because Gamzee is in the next room, but Eridan needs this, and you’re the only one who can give it to him. He tries to purr back, getting interrupted by hiccups and his hitching, unsteady breathing, but it means everything to you that he’s trying. You make yours stronger, pressing your chest to his so that you can purr for the both of you. Eventually his tears dry up and he lays back down, holding his arms out for you to snuggle up alongside him.

You want so badly to make him happy. He’s not your Moirail, and you’re going to make this clear once you think he can handle it, but at this point he might as well be. You put your hand in his hair again, selfishly enjoying the way he nuzzles into your touch. ‘ _This is wrong_ ’ your pan tells you, but your bloodpusher is saying just the opposite. You roll onto your back slightly to free your other arm, then position one hand at the base of each of his horns.

He inhales sharply, going completely still and staring at you expectantly. The media would have you believe that horn rubbing is a turn-on, something that only has a place in redrom – or blackrom sometimes – but that isn’t strictly true. In that situation, you would start at the bottom and work your way to the tip, increasing blood flow and providing another ‘sensory area’ to play around with, as often happens in intimate, romance scenes. But, for a pale partner, you stick to just the base, giving them the same relaxation but without the other, uh, _implications_.

Not that Eridan is your partner in anything, but it’s worth a try to calm him down. You start slowly, making sure that he’s alright with this because you kind of just assumed he would be and you might be horribly wrong. He sighs, a loose trill escaping along with it as his eyes flutter closed. Okay, so you’re guessing he likes it. You increase the pressure as he leans against your hands, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder. He returns your purr properly this time, and you’re glad that he decides to knead his claws into your sweater instead of trying to touch your horns. Those shitty nubs are so short that there’s no ‘red’ or ‘pale’, all contact is just embarrassing and strictly prohibited. Also prohibited, is having someone’s teeth anywhere near your jugular, so when Eridan starts to press gentle kisses to your neck, you impulsively move him away.

“S-sorry,” He whispers, his fins drooping, “I’m…I’m sorry.”

The guilt is fucking instantaneous.

“It’s okay.” You reply, pulling him back down so you can nuzzle his face.

“No,” He sniffs, “no ‘s not.”

He sits back, prying your hands from around his horns. You move with him, trying to put your hands on his shoulders, but he shrugs them off, curling in on himself again. Dammit, physical affection clearly isn’t going to work here, you need to try and get him to talk.

“Eridan,” You speak softly, just loud enough to get his attention, “what’s this all about? Because you can keep quiet all you want but I know this isn’t just because of Feferi.”

He flinches at the mention of her name, his gaze falling to his knees as the fabric becomes peppered with tearstains.

“Eridan please,” you put your hands over his and give them a gentle squeeze, “tell me.”

He looks at you with glistening eyes, then nods, crossing his legs as you do the same opposite him. You wrap your fingers around his hands, rubbing his knuckles with your thumbs.

“Y-you knoww wwhat Kan says, about the dream bubbles?” He begins slowly, his voice only just composed, “About how they showw the future, an’ the past, and sometimes evven other vversions a the univverse?”

“Yeah.”

You’re not liking where this is going.

“Wwell, I , I started seein’ some, in my day terrors, about all of us.” He pauses and swallows, biting his bottom lip as it begins to quiver.

You can feel him beginning to shake, so you silently tighten your grip on his hands.

“Wwe’re on this like r-rock thing, in space, an’ wwe’re all together, but then, then s-some of us, wwe...” He grits his teeth.

You know what it’s like to see the bad dream bubbles. You want to tell him to stop if it’s hurting this much, but he needs to let it out.

“Wwe die Kar,” He says eventually, in a small, trembling voice, “an’ it starts wwith me.”

“What do you mean? Do you go first?”

“No I _kill_ first,” He bites the words out as both a cry and a growl, pulling one hand away from you so that he can hide his face, “I f-fuckin’ snap an’ I, I _murder_ our friends, our fuckin’ f-friends – I kill Fef Kar!” he pounds the floor with his fist, “Just b-because she chose Sol, ovver me, a-an’ then I kill him too, an’ Kan, a-an’ sometimes evven you, an’ it makes me sick ‘cause I could d-do it, I could snap at any time an’ I just, just…” His babbling trails off into choked sobs, each rasping breath rattling his whole body.

So that’s what he meant when he said he thought you were gone. He’s watched an alternate version of himself murdering his closest friends in the dream bubbles. The worst thing is that you’re not really surprised, well about the killing part at least. It’s no secret that he hates land-dwellers, and out of your group he could count on one hand the number of people he honestly gets along with, but to actually do it with his own hands…

No, he wouldn’t. Maybe some other Eridan might, on a shitty ‘space rock’ out in a fucked up universe, but not yours.

“I won’t let you,” You put your arms around him, pressing your cheek to his and hoping that you don’t leave any pink stains from your own tears, “no matter how fucked things get, that’s never going to happen, okay?”

He shakes his head so you hug him tighter, grabbing a handful of his hair and purring as loudly as you can. Words Karkat, words, you need to think of something that’ll reassure him.

“You wouldn’t do it anyway,” You tell him, trying to sound light-hearted even though your pusher feels anything but light, “I mean look at you, you’re upset about a day terror you fish-ass wiggler.”

You think he laughs at that, but then he starts to cry even harder, wordlessly soaking your sweater with all of his worries and fears. You take it all and give him nothing but warmth and assurance in return, muttering “I know” and “it’s alright” over and over, half to him and half to yourself. His glasses end up on the floor and his hair is an absolute mess, but when he’s finally just snuffling quietly into the crook of your neck, you feel so relieved.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” He replies, moving back to look at you, his expression more sombre than you were hoping, “d-don’t tell anyone about this, Gamz can knoww, but not anyone else.”

“I won’t,” You sit down on your heels and pick up his glasses, slotting them back onto his face and dropping your hands to just under his fins when you’re done, “I promise.”

One side of his mouth turns up into the tiniest half-smile, the kind that makes your pusher skip a beat and means more than a thousand words. You wish he smiled more often, he could get anyone in a quadrant with that endearing, shark-toothed grin of his. Not you, obviously, because you’ve already got a Moirail and even that’s one quadrant too far for someone with your ‘condition’, but it really should be illegal for one of the most dangerous castes on the planet to be so fucking _cute_.

You promptly put a stop to this line of thought, but the pity has already crawled its way into whatever God forsaken part of your grey matter is responsible for pale attraction. In a moment of emotional-talk-induced madness, you lean in and peck a kiss to his lips, staying close enough to feel his breath after the split-second of contact. He stares at you, his face no longer pale as a violet blush spreads to the tip of his fins. You smile and kiss him again, and for longer, resting your head on his shoulder afterwards to hide your own flushed cheeks.

That was so _wrong_. The two of you have kissed before, but that time was sort of an accident and also mostly Eridan’s fault, this was just you being selfish under the guise of helping him. You can feel his pusher beating like it wants to jump out of his chest. God this probably gave him _so_ many mixed messages, messages that will need clearing up along with the whole ‘not Moirails’ thing later.

“I’m guessin’ wwe’re not gonna tell anyone about that either?” His voice has this nasally quality to it from the crying, but he manages to get the whole sentence out without a single hiccup, stutter or snivel.

“Yeah, um, I’m sorry,” You say, not moving from your admittedly comfortable position, “it’s not that I didn’t mean it but –”

“It’s fine, I get it.” He says calmly.

You have a sneaking suspicion that he doesn’t ‘get it’, but decide to drop the subject, if only to avoid thinking about what an awful excuse for a Troll you are. To quote the movie you tried to watch earlier, you’re ‘ _the biggest pale slut out there_ ’. Yep, Karkat ‘four diamonds’ Vantas, that’s you. Although by your standards, four diamonds probably wouldn’t be enough. Then Eridan hugs you and it doesn’t really matter.

“You should get goin’ if you wwant to make it back to shore by sunrise.” In spite of this comment, he doesn’t seem inclined to let you go, instead beginning to pet your hair.

“Yeah, it’d be a goddamn travesty if you had to share your hive with a Lowblood like me.” You also make no attempt to move.

“Hmm,” He takes you with him as he reclines into the pile, “I think I could make an exception, seein’ as you’re so fuckin’ small.”

You’re so glad to hear that smug undertone of his that you start to purr again.

“Oh my, how gracious of you, your highness.” Your sarcasm is lost to a yawn as you pull his cape around you.

“I try.” He murmurs into your hair.

You let out a small chirrup as he presses a kiss to your forehead and begins to purr. Past Karkat is an idiot; how could feeling this peaceful _ever_ be wrong?

***

It takes you a moment to remember where you are after waking up the next evening. Then you realise that you’re sandwiched between two cold bodies and let out a sigh of relief. At some point you rolled over and became Eridan’s little spoon, his hand resting protectively on your chest as he snores softly against the back of your neck. He almost sounds like he’s trilling in his sleep. Fucking adorable. In front of you, Gamzee has his arm draped across both of your shoulders and his back end spread out across the floor, legs askew at awkward angles that shouldn’t be comfortable but clearly are. He always was too tall to fit in piles. Also fucking adorable.

You think you would have noticed if Eridan was having a day terror – especially when he’s sleeping without sopor – so you’re hoping that your little talk helped him. You continue to doze for another hour or so, enjoying the presence of your friends and the pleasant cold they bring during such a warm season. Gamzee is the next to wake up, and you spend a while whispering to each other about what to do next. You eventually settle on cleaning up the beach, which shouldn’t be too difficult at low tide.

A very sleepy Eridan pipes up at this point to offer his assistance, but you tell him that you’ve already sorted out his agenda for the night. An agenda that involves some food, a bath, and a nap in his recuperacoon, to be repeated and reordered when necessary. He grumbles about it and pouts when you politely decline his offer to share a bath, but does as he’s told under Seahorsedad’s supervision, leaving you and Gamzee free to sort out the beach.

It’s not as bad as you first thought, and most of the wood ends up hammered back into place on the docks with Gamzee’s clubs. Anything that doesn’t fit can pass as part of the shipwreck aesthetic and gets left where it is. By the time you’re done, Eridan is on his second breakfast and you happily join him, seeing as you forgot to have anything other than a sandwich yesterday. He looks much better now that he’s washed and re-dressed; his hair is styled back off of his face and you think he may have put on make-up, because his lips were not that shiny before. You would know, after all.

You stop thinking about that and focus on preparing for the ‘not Moirails’ talk, which you’re sure is going to suck but needs to be done before things get out of hand. But because you’re a huge wiggler, you put it off until you’re literally standing at the door, saying goodbye to Eridan whilst Gamzee attempts to call his Lusus. You’ve got your speech all prepared – along with various placatory additions in case he doesn’t take it well – and you’re just about to start, when Eridan makes your pan go blank with the sweetest, most genuine smile.

“Thank you Kar,” He says, “for everythin’.”

“No problem.” You reply after a few awkward seconds where your mouth refused to work.

“I’m sure I wwas, but I appreciate you sayin’ so.”

He laughs a little and you do too. Okay Karkat, he’s in a good mood, it’s now or never.

“We’re not Moirails.” You blurt out, forgetting every clever line or well-structured sentence that you had thought up.

God that was so tactless, you’ve really fucked this up now, he’s going to hate you. Then Eridan gives you a pleasant surprise.

“I knoww,” He says, maintaining his smile, “but I’vve realised that you don’t havve to be in a quadrant to havve a relationship wwith someone special, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” You nod and smile back because that makes perfect sense, and is possibly the most mature thing you have ever heard come out of this sea-dweller’s mouth, “and just because we’re not Moirails, it doesn’t mean we can’t still talk about things and help each other out,” you put your hands on his shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze, “so let me know if you need anything, and no more brooding alright?”

“Alright,” He picks you up around the waist and rubs your faces together, then gently deposits you back onto the sand, “an’ the same goes for you.”

You nod, fighting to suppress your blush because you’ve come this far without letting him know your blood colour, and you certainly aren’t going to ruin it now. Then a loud crashing of waves alerts you to the arrival of Goatdad.

“Well, there’s my ride,” you gesture over your shoulder, “bye Eridan.”

“Bye Kar.”

You soak up his smile for a few seconds longer, then turn and run over to the half-beached Lusus, giving Eridan one last wave before you climb on its back and begin the return journey to Gamzee’s hive. Crabdad is probably going to throw a hissy fit because of how long you’ve been gone, but it was most definitely worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if any of that seemed OOC, but it just didn't feel right to have Karkat being grouchy and insulting in this situation. I promise that Karkat snappy-mcshouty-pants Vantas and Eridan I'm-better-than-you Ampora will be back in the fic that this one is a side-story of.  
> Upd8 - A fic that you can now find [here!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5672290/chapters/13067188)
> 
> Also apologies for typos, I think I caught them all but there's always one lurking somewhere in the middle of a paragraph.
> 
> Anyway, have a nice day my lovely reader ~


End file.
